Lion's Game

CH 6

Lady Ashara glares and opens her mouth, no doubt to tell him to leave in a much less kind tone.

"Ashara let him in, I'm fine." Ashara Dayne turns her head, closing the door ever so slightly so that Lysander cannot hear or see what she is saying. Lysander had to admit, he would do much the same thing if he were in her place.

Ashara suddenly swings the door open, not at all looking pleased with clearly having lost the argument. Lysander carefully steps into the room, he wipes his palms on his trousers and releases a sigh. His gaze falls on Elia Martell who sits solemnly by the window, he could only imagine what was going on inside her mind.

He bows and offers her a warm smile. Elia returns it, she was glad it was him that had come to see her. Lysander had always been kind to her in their youth, she was happy to admit privately that she would no longer be Rhaegar's wife. She knew she wasn't the ideal bride, court life bored her and the last thing she desired was to be caught up in some plot.

Since the king had returned from Duskendale some seven or eight moons prior there had been a clear divide at court. Those on the side of King Aerys were older lords who thought siding with the king might gain them power. But those on the side of Prince Rhaegar were younger lords or knights that shared his desire for change. Of course, every girl dreamed of being a queen but Elia was content with the simple life of being a lord's wife. But not many lords would want a would whose health might kill her before childbirth did.

"I wanted to see how you were doing? My sister would have come she feared it might be inappropriate." Elia nods and gives Ashara a look that says she wishes for some privacy. Elia smiles and gestures for Lysander to sit.

"It's fine truly. My mother will be furious but I don't mind... Your sister is a very fortunate woman." Lysander raises an eyebrow, it was truly surprising to him that she wasn't upset at being put aside.

"I suppose so, she only hopes that you aren't too cross with her." Elia smiles and shakes her head.

"No, not at all. Lady Amara has done me a great service. Rhaegar and I got on well enough but I know we both would not have enjoyed marriage." He was glad she was in a good mood. It made what he wanted to ask that much easier, though of course she still had to say yes.

He clears his throat. "I'm sure your mother will still protest."

Elia looks out her window and onto the waters of the bay. Her mother would certainly be angry and her brothers would take it as a slight upon her honor. "Finding a way to deal with my family won't be easy but I suppose I'll manage."

"It might be better if you come to them with a marriage offer. Perhaps it might soften the blow." Now it was Elia's turn to look at him with a raised brow. There was no way she'd be able to find as good a match so quickly, and finding one that her mother would approve of would certainly prove difficult.

"I'm offering... what I mean to say is... Amara is willing to put forth a recommendation for your marriage, but only with your consent." Elia looks at him with intrigue.

"And who did she have in mind?" Lysander smiles and takes a pause.

"Me. I have been looking for a wife for some time now and... you are a beautiful princess that any man would be fortunate to marry." A smile grows on Elia's face. Their mothers had always hoped to arrange a marriage between their children in their youth, now it might actually be possible. Elia's smile grows bigger as she touches Lysander's hand with her own, he was willing to wed a discarded woman though he knew his father the great Lord Tywin Lannister would be furious.

"Tell your sister that she has my consent."

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"I must congratulate you, Amara, convincing my father to suggest a betrothal with Elia and your brother." Rhaegar places a hand on her shoulder. The pair look around the throne room and watch as the courtiers whisper to each other. The King's sudden and very public suggestion to his hand that the Princess of Dorne would make an excellent wife for his heir, it was a difficult thing for her father to refuse.